MacGyver and Skippy
by Sushi Shea Shogun
Summary: 'It took him a few more seconds to process what Michelangelo had just told him. He lifted his head from his hand, which was propped up by his elbow on the arm of the couch, before simply saying, "Mac-what?"' Donatello and Michelangelo trade ideas for nicknames. One-shot.


_'Basic Pyrotechnics: Emergency fire starter composition. Aluminum, magnesium, red iron oxide, potassium-'_

"MacGyver."

Donatello blinked a few times, the aimless thoughts floating about in his head dissipating at the sudden sound of a voice next to him. He had nearly forgotten that he wasn't alone in the lair at the moment, and it took him a few more seconds to process what Michelangelo had just told him. He lifted his head from his hand, which was propped up by his elbow on the arm of the couch, before simply saying, "Mac-what?"

"MacGyver," repeated Michelangelo, leaning back where he sat on the sofa beside his brother. His hands were linked behind his head, his legs were crossed and his eyes were closed contently as the television cast faint tints onto the dark room around them. He seemed quite satisfied with himself; it was the same expression one would have if they were basking on a beach after a long day's work. "Sounds cool to me."

Donatello shook his head slowly, straightening up in his seat to look at Michelangelo. "Are you talking to me, by chance?" he asked, still hopelessly blind to the purpose of this spontaneous statement. "I can't read your mind, Mikey."

It was as if what he said had jolted something to life in Michelangelo. He turned to face Donatello, swinging his legs up onto the couch to fold them beneath him, his face bright with eagerness. "So, I've been thinking-"

"Oh, no." Donatello smirked as he spoke, and Michelangelo laughed before trying again.

"I've been thinking," he continued, "Raph and Leo have nicknames, right?"

"Right...?"

"Leo has stuff like 'fearless' and 'Splinter Jr.', and Raph even has 'hot head' if Leo's feeling _really_ lame."

"Your point?"

Michelangelo's eyes almost glittered at the thought of his apparently revolutionary idea. "My point is -" He clapped his hands together to exaggerate his words as he fell back to lean on the couch arm behind him._ "- we _don't have nicknames like that!" he said. "Doesn't make sense, dude. So, you're MacGyver."

A pause. "'MacGyver', huh?"

"Yeah!" Michelangelo said, leaning forward this time; his constant movement reminded Donatello of a wobble toy. "You know, that dude from that old TV show that can make cool stuff out of, like, anything? It's genius, right? Totally fits you."

Donatello folded his arms and hummed thoughtfully, studying the ceiling in an idle manner as he considered his brother's proposition. He had to admit that he rather liked his new nickname. Yes, "MacGyver" definitely had a ring to it that he very much enjoyed. After a brief silence, he said, "Nice. I suppose that since you gave me one, I should think of one for you."

Michelangelo grinned. "Shoot, bro."

Donatello's only indication of acknowledgment was a simple tilt of the head, still thoughtful. What sort of nickname would he give him? Right then, he was feeling particularly devious; obviously, whatever he chose would have to be vastly inferior to his own, condescending and cute. Almost sickeningly cute. A smug grin of his own spread across his face. "Skippy."

Michelangelo blinked. Now it was his turn to run things through his head. He scrunched up his beak and repeated, "'Skippy'?"

Donatello nodded curtly. "Yep. Skippy."

"_Skippy?"_

"That's what I said, _Skippy_." He liked how it sounded already.

Michelangelo looked unamused. "Uh, No. Dude, that's _lame_."

Donatello leaned back on the couch and crossed his legs, firm in his decision. "I called you Skippy, and Skippy you will stay."

"But just listen to how that _sounds_!" Michelangelo whined, waving his arms dramatically. "'Skippy'? What if you let that slip while we're duking it out on the edge of a cliff in a lightning storm or something? _Fail_, dude. That's heaps of dignity I'll never get back!"

"I don't know, dignity doesn't seem like your style." Donatello said pointedly, still smiling from ear to ear. "Besides, it sums you up pretty well."

However, it seemed that Michelangelo considered this a rather fatal flaw in his life and would not be letting the injustice go, even in the face of Donatello's content firmess with his choice. Thus, the rest of the latter turtle's day largely consisted of being dragged away from his various projects and activities simply to watch Michelangelo attempt to disprove his embarrassing new nickname, each stunt a little more ridiculous than the last. After several visits to the dojo to witness extreme feats such as one-armed pushups while Donatello sat on his back and upside down curl ups on the sewer pipes with weights tied to his wrists (some feats being less successful than others), he must have been completely drained of ideas. Donatello had never even heard of a "no-hand stand" and, as he watched his brother attempt this from where he sat on the floor with a book opened in his lap, he was starting to understand why; he was sure that Michelangelo would have broken his neck by now, if he wasn't falling flat onto his back every time he tried. Leonardo and Raphael had become mildly entertained by this spectacle as well, and they had joined Donatello on the ground to form a miniature audience.

Leonardo leaned slightly toward Donatello. "So... you change your mind yet, 'MacGyver'?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement at the nickname.

Donatello shook his head. "Nope," he answered simply. As Raphael and Leonardo burst into laughter behind him and Michelangelo flopped onto his shell with a frustrated groan for what must have been the seventh time, he said, "It's no use, Mikey! You're going to be 'Skippy' for the rest of your life!"


End file.
